


Remember

by DangerousArithmetic



Category: Dark Souls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousArithmetic/pseuds/DangerousArithmetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Congrats Carly.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TripleBees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleBees/gifts).



> Congrats Carly.

Lucatiel didn't know why she was here anymore. The bonfire burned brightly in front of her, and the broken down cabin surrounding her shivering form creaked ominously, as though itself was threatening her. She wouldn't be surprised if the cabin did attack her, she had been attacked by monsters hidden in tar pits, headless puppets, dogs, and seemingly harmless loot chests, and frankly, she was tired, so tired. Lucatiel shivered despite the bonfire before her. She had seen the mysterious Bearer of the Curse use these bonfires to transport between them, but she herself refused to use them instead preferring to walk to her destination testing her skills on the monsters that she met along the way.

She blinked. What was she doing here again? Lucatiel got up from her sitting position slightly to look around and check her surroundings, but found nothing except for the rustling of Kobolds scurrying around in the long grass. Lucatiel felt panic rise from the pit of her stomach. She removed her mask and fully rose from her spot, but didn't move from it. She closed her eyes and shook her head angrily, and tried to remember. 

"Why am I here? Who do I search for? Where am I? Who am I?" Lucatiel asked herself bitterly. She repeated these questions every time she felt herself slip, but what was she slipping from again? "I am here for a cure and f-for..my….brother. I am-I am in Drangleic."

Lucatiel stopped in her mantra. She felt herself freeze up, and began to feel the panic again. Her eyes whipped around the cabin as though searching for a clue, and dropped her mask to the floor in her rush of fear.

"I-I am…"

She stopped and closed her eyes again. She breathed slowly, in and out, and with her eyes still closed she relaxed her shoulders and slowly sat back down, propping her blade hilt against her shoulder. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at her feet. Her gaze wandered her small shelter slowly. Her gaze soon fell upon her blade, and she slowly raised it to her face. There was a small engraving within her blade. She adjusted the blade to read the small script, and felt her eyes begin to water and a few tears fell from her face. She pressed her forehead to the blade, not caring if it cut her. 

She did not sob or make a sound in fear of drawing attention, but she did feel her chest grow heavy from the sadness. Her face was damp with tears before she finally calmed down from her small fit. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts, but not banish them, and lowered the blade. She couldn't let herself be seen like this, like some small child crying over her lost mother in a market. No. She was a proud warrior of Mirrah, and she would not be seen crying. She rose only enough to snuff the bonfire before her. She fixed herself and dried her tears.

"I am called, Lucatiel."


End file.
